_Tooke._ Thelwall's my name for state alarm;
I love the rebels of Chalk Farm;
Rogues that no statutes can subdue,
Who'd bring the French, and head them too.
_Fox._ A whisper in your ear John Horne,
For one great end we both were born,
Alike we roar, and rant and bellow--
Give us your hand my honest fellow.
_Tooke._ Charles, for a shuffler long I've known thee,
But come--for once I'll not disown thee,
And since with patriot zeal thou burnest,
With thee I'll live--or hang in earnest.
But the most celebrated of these poems is "The Friend of Humanity, and
The Knife-Grinder"--
_Friend of Humanity._ Needy knife-grinder! whither are you going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order,
Bleak blows the blast; your hat has got a hole in't,
So have your breeches!
Weary knife-grinder! little think the proud ones,
Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike-road,
What hard work 'tis crying all day, "knives and
Scissors to grind, O!"
Tell me, knife-grinder, how you came to grind knives?
Did some rich man tyranically use you?
Was it the squire? or parson of the parish?
Or the attorney?
Was it the squire for killing of his game? or
Covetous parson for his tithes distraining?
Or roguish lawyer, made you lose your little
All in a lawsuit?
(Have you not read the "Rights of Man" by Tom Paine?)
Drops of compassion tremble on my eyelids,
Ready to fall as soon as you have told your
Pitiful story.
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